


Untitled Blackice

by GretchenSinister



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: M/M, the situation starts off bad and remains so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:08:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21528832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister
Summary: Original Prompt: “A magical spell goes awry, and Pitch gets de-aged to 16, with all the hungry, horny hormonal impulses of that age. Not to mention the loss of his nightmare king powers. On the other end of the spell is Jack Frost, who gets fast-forwarded 20 years, with all of his powers and also a significant height increase that makes him now bigger than Pitch. MAKE SEX HAPPEN. Non/dubcon welcome.”The challenge with this one was that I don’t really ship Blackice–though there’s going to be a lot more if I face every unfilled prompt. Maybe I will learn to ship it. Also I think I was a little shit with the interpreting the intentions of the prompter, because even though Jack is bigger/stronger, he’s, ah, not the one in control. Kind of reacting to a lot of fic I’ve read where larger partner=penetrating partner. Wanted to change that up. Went overboard on the length here, at least for how I thought I was approaching these prompts. Ended up being noncon.
Relationships: Jack Frost/Pitch Black
Kudos: 26
Collections: Blackice Short Fics





	Untitled Blackice

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on 4/24/2013.

“Hm.” North strokes his beard. “This is not usual, you know, Jack. Usually appearance should not change so suddenly.” 

“Even with me getting so many new believers?” 

North shakes his head, looking at the man standing before him thoughtfully. Yesterday, Jack Frost had the appearance of a slender sixteen-year-old. Today, he looks like a much taller and more muscular version of that boy. He also seems to be in his mid-thirties. “Maybe you would end up looking like this once whole world believes in you, but seems strange. Guardian of Fun should look less like adult, da? No, this looks like spell. Did you hear or see anything or anyone casting one?”

“Nope. Nothing seemed weird until I realized I was a foot taller than normal.”

“Sounds like accident, then. Released magic from some other spell. Thing about that is, something or someone else must have gotten opposite effect.”

“Could it be anything? Like a tree?”

“Da, anything. But you will need to find that thing in order to reverse spell. Let us hope it is not a tree. Hard to tell when one is suddenly looking much younger. But it would probably be something close to where you were last night.” 

“That’d be Burgess. So—there’s nothing else to do? I go back there, and look around for whatever seems magically younger?”

North nods. “Just to make sure is not something harmful.”

* * *

The wind doesn’t have any trouble carrying Jack’s larger body through the air just as usual, and he’s swooping over the forest on the outskirts of town when he notices something odd. The tunnel that led to Pitch’s lair is open again.

He flies down to it, alighting on the rim and peering into the darkness. “You behind this, Pitch?” He mutters to himself. “Doesn’t look like it worked if you were. I feel stronger than ever.” 

Still, even if Pitch isn’t behind his sudden change in appearance, he should still investigate what seems to be a sign of the Boogeyman’s recovery.

Nothing stirs as he enters the lair, and even as he approaches Pitch’s globe, no nightmares come out to stop him. Gaining confidence, Jack decides that he might as well take the opportunity to do some prime-quality espionage on the layout of the lair, and begins to go through the labyrinth systematically. 

At least, he tries to. As the Guardian of Fun, he’s not so good with doing things systematically, and soon enough he’s lost amid broken brick and shadows. Retracing his steps doesn’t work; neither does going forward. Every corridor is the same, and they all seem to lead back to an alcove holding a dilapidated four-poster bed. It’s frustrating, and, worse, it’s boring. Jack feels his eyelids drooping as his energy fades away. Maybe just a quick nap, even on so questionable a bed, would be good for him. He barely makes it over before falling sound asleep.

Pitch slides out from underneath the bed and smiles down at Jack. Even powerless, he finds him all too easy to manipulate. And, lying on the bed, all too sexy. Pitch feels himself getting a hard-on and lets out a small huff of annoyance. He’s not _used_ to being a teenager, and everything about the transformation seems ridiculous. But then again, his intense physical desire for Jack Frost was what had made him go to the trouble of opening the tunnel again and luring him down here, so he might as well get on with getting exactly what he wants.

* * *

Jack awakens to a strangely familiar voice speaking softly in his ear. “Time to have some fun, Jack.” Realizing that it’s Pitch’s voice, but altered somehow—higher? smoother?, he opens his eyes immediately, intending to reach for his staff and prepare to defend himself. He can’t do this, however, since someone—must have been Pitch—has tied him to the bed. His trousers and hoodie bind each of his arms to a bedpost, and Pitch’s tights and robe serve to tie his ankles to the remaining posts.

Pitch is looking down at him, his mouth in its customary predatory grin, which looks even freakier than usual on a _sixteen-year-old’s_ face. Oh. So it was Pitch that got the other half of the spell. As if this situation needed to be any weirder. 

“Pitch! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Appreciating your new body, of course.” Pitch’s eyes travel slowly down Jack’s form, and the Guardian has never felt so exposed. He tries to distract him.

“What’s with the clothes as ties, Pitch? I thought your shadows would do the same thing.”

“My shadows would do more than that,” Pitch says, running a thin hand over Jack’s firm thigh. “But ever since I woke like this, they wouldn’t come when I called. I’ve had to rely entirely on my natural talent of creeping around in the dark to get you here. My innate skill in having people remain asleep no matter what was done to them.”

“Well, you’ve clearly demonstrated that.” How could he have slept through being stripped? Not to mention tied up!

“Oh, Jack, you have no idea what you’ve slept through.”

That doesn’t sound good at all.

Suddenly, instead of standing next to the bed, Pitch is climbing on top of it—and on top on Jack, so that he’s straddling his chest. Jack’s not sure what sort of face he makes when he realizes he’s got all too good a view of the teenaged Pitch’s erection, but it draws a low chuckle from the Boogeyman. “It’s so hard being a teenager,” he says, and Jack thinks that really takes the cake for worst pun in worst situation.

Pitch scoots down on Jack’s stomach, leaning down so that their chests are touching. Jack can feel the heat and hardness of Pitch’s cock press against his abs, and this can’t really be happening, can it? Pitch rests his head in the crook of Jack’s neck and reaches out to caress Jack’s biceps. “You know, I never thought there’d be a time when you would look older than me. Stronger than me,” the Boogeyman croons. “You’re delicious this way.” He nuzzles into Jack’s neck and bites, eliciting a hiss from Jack. “Yes, delicious.” He smiles, his eyes nearly closing. “I could rut against your cool skin right now, coming all over your chest. But you’d be able to shrug that off too easily, I think. And I wouldn’t want to waste my hard work. I’m ever so greedy in this form, Jack, I want so much. How could you stand it for so long? Oh well. I don’t care. Right now, I need. And I’m going to get.”

He slithers down past Jack’s hips— _this really cannot be happening_ —and in between his spread legs, pressing the head of his cock against Jack’s entrance. It doesn’t immediately feel uncomfortable, and, to Jack’s horror, he realizes that somehow Pitch has managed to stretch him out and lube him up while he was asleep. Still, he cries out in protest as Pitch sheathes himself with a groan. He can’t help but clench, and try to struggle, but all he accomplishes is wringing a few more moans from Pitch before he begins to thrust. 

And it’s so strange, to see the Boogeyman as a teen, the sharp lines of his face ever so slightly softer, with such a concentrated look of bliss on features that don’t look like they should be hardened to anything. Jack tries to focus on how strange that contrast is, and not on the contrast that’s happening lower down. The firm, steady, controlled rhythm Pitch sets up is not that of an inexperienced teenager, and Jack almost wonders, before his mind shies away from doing so, just _who_ the Boogeyman’s fucked before. 

Still, like a teenager, he comes quickly, with a shuddering sigh. Jack hopes it’s over then, but Pitch recovers like a teenager too, and soon enough he’s ready for round two. “You’re not getting into this, Jack,” he complains. “Before we’re done, I want to see your cock hard. If you manage it quickly enough, I’ll even let you decide if you want me to make you come or not.”

And he presses in again, this time beginning to babble a stream of filth that Jack really can’t believe he’s hearing—though he doesn’t really believe anything about this encounter. 

This isn’t what he wants, and though his body lets Pitch get what he wants eventually, Jack doesn’t get to choose what happens next, as Pitch uses practiced hands to get him to spill all over his stomach. He’s trying to block out so much of what’s going on, he almost doesn’t notice that at that point suddenly he and Pitch are returned to their normal forms. 

Shadows replace the bonds he’s slipped out of before he can react—and Pitch was telling the truth earlier—they do more than bind him.

* * *

Pitch lets him go before the other Guardians start to worry.


End file.
